


Luck of the Draw

by crystalsnowflakes



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalsnowflakes/pseuds/crystalsnowflakes
Summary: Yuffie is convinced that she has the worst fricken luck in the world—she has somehow managed to pull Reno’s name for Secret Santafive years in a row.
Relationships: Yuffie Kisaragi & Reno, Yuffie Kisaragi/Reno
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	Luck of the Draw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talyag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talyag/gifts).



> Without your gift, I would have never gotten the inspiration to start, let alone finish this Christmas fic. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

**I.**

With an irritated snort, Yuffie placed the badly wrapped present into the large cardboard box that Tifa had left in the kitchen of the bar with a clear ‘Secret Santa’ label. She couldn’t believe the absolute luck that she had for her to pull that jackass’ name out of the bag—of _all_ the people it could have been, it had to be the one she wanted the _least._

It would have been better if it was Vincent, or Rude, or _hell,_ even Tseng.

But no, it _had_ to be Reno.

This was all Reeve’s fault. In an attempt to foster relationships between the former members of AVALANCHE and the Shinra lackeys so that they could ‘all work together without murdering each other’, Reeve had begged and pleaded with them to start a gift exchange between them all. He even had the gall—the _audacity_ —to get Tifa and Tseng on board to spearhead the operation.

Needless to say, nobody had dared to refuse it.

And while Yuffie knew she could have very well done what Reeve _and_ Tifa wanted, which was to make nice by buying a cheap bottle of liquor for a couple hundred gil, what good would that have done for _her?_ Reno would probably have been happy, sure, but hell if she was ever going to spend money on that loser without it benefiting _her_ in some way.

With a beer in her hands, she slid into a stool next to her broody partner with a small snicker “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Vincent tilted his face towards her ever so slightly to acknowledge her presence in his usual silent way.

This, she was used to. “Can you believe that Cat-boy had the balls to force us into this stupid fricken Christmas party with those turkeys? Gawd, Teef must be so happy with herself that even _Spikey_ showed his face…”

By the time it was time for the gift exchanges, Yuffie was sure that _almost_ everyone had drank a little too much. With the exception of Vincent and Cloud who were sitting together quietly at the bar with their backs turned towards the rest of the world, everyone was _smiling and laughing_ —it _almost_ seemed like they were normal coworkers at a Christmas party. Except the Shinra people were sitting with themselves and the ex-AVALANCHE members were scattered throughout the bar, amongst themselves—only Tifa bothered to converse with the _other_ group. It made sense though, since they all trusted them as far as they could throw them which, unless it was Vincent doing the throwing, probably wasn’t very far.

Her eyes flickered over to the thin gaunt face of the redhead before she looked at the bright blazing hair on the top of his head that magnified the paleness of his skin. As if he could feel her gaze on him, he glanced up casually and his glowing green eyes met hers almost immediately—their gazes locked for a split second before she looked away.

Something about the way he looked at her sent her heart racing and she could feel her cheeks heat up. Her face twisted into a scowl and she was _almost_ tempted to go over to him to ask him what the hell he was looking at.

And then Reno stood up abruptly from his seat and sauntered towards her. Yuffie sat frozen in her spot, her shoulders tense as she continued to study him out of the corner of her eyes, ready to lash out at a moment's notice. He was staring at her with his lips twisted into a mocking sneer as he drew closer and just as she was about to strike, his body shifted slightly as he swaggered towards the bar counter where all the presents had been laid—that asshole was totally aware she was watching him. And she shouldn't feel guilty for staring since he was the enemy—it wasn't like she was checking him out!

Her lips curled into an impish grin as he picked up the present she had lovingly wrapped _just for him._ "Cocky asshole," she muttered under her breath. "Hope you like your present."

Nanaki, with his impeccable hearing, glanced up at her from his position at her feet. "I hope you haven't done anything rash, Yuffie."

She peeked downwards with her tongue sticking out as she blew a raspberry. "Don't be a party pooper. Plus, when do I _ever_ do anything rash?"

A barely audible growl escaped his throat and she interpreted it as a laugh, even though she was pretty sure it was a sigh of exasperation.

Just as she was about to defend herself because the Turks really deserved everything coming to them, the loud clunking of heavy boots could be heard approaching—something landed on the table in front of her with a soft thud.

And then the unmistakable stench of _shit_ hit her like a punch in the face—she almost gagged.

"What the—"

"I don't think you understand how this works, dipshit," Reno said as he glowered down at her, his lips set in a thin line.

"What makes you think it's _me?"_ she squeaked before pinching her nose closed while shooting him a death glare simultaneously. "Also," she added as she pushed the 'gift' away from her as far as physically possible, "Get it away from me. It's kinda making me wanna vom."

“Nobody’s fuckin’ bold and _stupid_ enough to pull such a goddamn stunt,” he growled out. Except the corners of his lips were twitching and she could _swear_ it looked like his eyes were _dancing_ in amusement.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she scrambled up to kneel on the stool instead to match his eye level. “Wow. You think I’m _brave?_ Was that a compliment, Turkey?”

His eyes widened a fraction before he locked down the expression on his face. “No, it was _not_ a fuckin’ compliment you—”

“Oh,” she cut in with a mischievous curl of the lips as she moved her face closer to his. They were so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. “And FYI, I totes know how it works. I just _hate_ your fricken guts. And I totally kept to the rules since this piece of doo-doo cost me quite a bit. Had to fly a piece of turd from the most expensive chocobo in the world.”

His gaze studied hers for a few long moments before his lips quirked up almost indistinguishably. Then he turned around and skulked back to his seat with the rest of the Turks, deliberately leaving his gift at _her_ table.

With a grimace, she jumped off the seat and hopped over to settle down in the stool next to Vincent. She made sure to look away from Tifa and Reeve for the rest of the evening—they would no doubt be sporting a disapproving glance.

But they were the Turks. They totally deserved everything that was coming to them and _more._

So why did she feel so guilty?

**II.**

Yuffie was convinced that Tifa had rigged the draw so that she could make up for her—literally—shitty gift to Reno the year before. Either that, or she had the worst luck in the history of Secret Santa because she had somehow managed to pull out that one dreaded name again earlier in the month. 

Regardless, while she knew she could no doubt _actually_ get him a gift he would enjoy, what would be the fun in that? Might as well entertain herself and everyone else while she was at it. Plus, she had a feeling Reno was the clown of the group anyway—and for such an asshole, he was tolerant of being the butt of her joke. He hadn’t even tried to fry her ass even though she had given him enough of a reason to last year.

Without trying very hard, she could _still_ imagine the putrid smell of the chocobo turd—Tifa had forced _her,_ the Lady of Wutai, to pick it up and throw it out into the back alley dumpster. 

The mutiny.

Her eyes strayed from the cold beer in her hands to the pile of presents sitting by the Christmas tree this year. Tifa had said that she didn’t want anymore chocobo turd on her bar counter, which was probably a good idea, considering what she had gotten for Reno _this_ year. Tifa probably wouldn’t approve of the clean-up—she’d just have to dip before she was forced to clean up the mess.

She studied the way Elena and Tseng were sitting closer together and wondered if something had developed between them—she liked Elena enough. As a matter of fact, in the last year, she had had plenty of opportunities to _actually_ work together with them and while she had initially highly disliked them, she found that they really were only human. They were likable enough if one managed to look past their job description of murderer, kidnappers, blackmailers…

Except Reno. Reno was just a jackass.

“You look like Christmas blew chunks on you,” his condescending tone that was too close to her ear grated on her nerves.

Turning her face around towards Reno, the familiar sight of his aquamarine eyes met hers. The distinct smell of cigarette smoke wafted up to her nostrils as she pulled on the hem of her Christmas moogle sweater. 

“Gawd, you’re gross. It’s called being _festive,_ you ass. Something you’d know _nothing_ about.” She scowled, but her eyes trailed to the way his tailored suit fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist—her eyes snapped back to his face when she realized who exactly she had been eyeing.

His gaze lingered on the Santa hat on the top of her head before flickering to her lips briefly—she bit her lips, feeling strangely awkward from his stare. Her cheeks felt warm. Her heart was _definitely not_ thudding loudly and erratically in her chest.

Before she could think of something witty to say in retort, he snagged a beer from the tray.

“I’d rather not know if it looks like _you,”_ he muttered before scoffing and walking away.

With a snort, she took a swig from her bottle before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Wait till you open your present, you asshole,” she said quietly enough that no one would hear.

She had settled herself in the booth next to Reeve and Vincent when the gift exchange finally started. This year, she received a low-level fire materia in a small gift box—she would enjoy bringing her little present to her next assignment to level up.

Eager, she sat at the edge of her seat as she watched Reno grab his wrapped box from the bottom of the tree before sitting down at his seat. His fingers produced a switchblade knife out of his suit pocket before he sliced open the wrapping paper and box expertly—he pulled out a plush hat in the shape of a cooked turkey.

With an exasperated groan, he cast a flat glare her way before calling across the bar. “Fuckin’ you _again?”_

She couldn’t stop the giggles that bubbled out of her and she waved him on. “There’s more, Turkey!”

There was an amused glint in his eyes as he pulled the ridiculous hat on top of his head. And then he tugged out the small envelope taped at the bottom of the box. Yuffie’s fingers slipped her materia into her pocket as she finished her beer, ready at a moment’s notice to bolt.

“Should we be worried, Yuffie?” Reeve asked, his voice barely audible.

Her lips curved upwards. “Nah. The only person who should be worried is him.”

“Yuffie...” A lecture was no doubt on the tip of his tongue except her attention was solely focused on the most obnoxious Turk of the group.

Reno’s finger grasped the card and opened it. The next second, his eyes had widened in horror as small, practically microscopic pieces of glitter of any imaginable shade spilled out onto the table, into his beer, onto his suit and on his chest.

 _“Fuck!”_ he sputtered out, standing up in shock.

Despite the way Tifa and Reeve had called her name out in a scolding way in the background, Yuffie burst out into a loud chortle of gurgling laughter. “Holy _shit,_ Turkey! You look like Christmas blew chunks on _you!”_

“You goddamn _brat!_ I’m gonna be fuckin’ swimmin’ in glitter till next year!” The fury in his eyes made her all warm and fuzzy inside. It didn’t help that he didn’t even look all that mad in the first place with his half-quirked lips.

Standing up from where she was sitting, she gave a small bow and twirled around with as much grace as she could muster. “Merry Christmas, losers!” she called over her shoulders before yanking open the doors and bouncing out into the cooler night air.

She couldn’t _wait_ for him to find glitter in his underwear—the damn stuff went _everywhere._

**III.**

This year, she knew for a _fact_ that she just had the most awful luck because she had once _again_ pulled Reno’s name out of the hat. There was absolutely _no way_ Tifa had rigged the draw because she knew as well as anyone else that Yuffie would _not_ relent in her quest to prank the insufferable bastard.

Plus, it had become tradition at this point—she couldn’t _possibly_ break tradition.

With a snicker, she flicked a peanut in the air, ready to catch it in her mouth with her eyes closed. Except after a long moment, the peanut still hadn’t landed and she cracked open her eyes to see bright eyes staring down at her.

There was also a plush turkey hat atop that gawd awful garish red hair.

 _“Eep!”_ she shrieked, almost falling off the stool in the process. “What the _hell,_ Turkey?”

Reno chuckled, the sound of his husky voice catching her by surprise—she’d never heard him laugh like _that_ before. With the corners of his lip curled up into a smirk, he popped the peanut into his mouth instead. And then he sat down in the seat beside her and made himself comfortable by grabbing a handful of nuts from the bowl.

“Hey!” she protested with a pout before punching his shoulder—the barely noticeable wince gave her some amount of satisfaction. “Why’re _you_ here?”

His gaze trailed up to the antlers she had decided to don this Christmas Eve before they darted back down to her choice of festive sweater and finally back to her face. “Better fuckin’ not be you again—but I figure I’ll be here in case I get a faceful of fuckin’ glitter again so we can share the pain.” He reached over to snag her beer and took a sip before she could stop him. “Found glitter in my damn suit and shoes half a year later, yo.”

Yuffie tried to scowl, but she couldn’t stop her lips from twitching into a grin at his admission. “I can neither confirm nor deny whether I’m your Secret Santa this year,” she said with a titter.

“Is it rigged or what? Who the hell’s in charge of this shit anyway?” he scoffed.

Part of her was tempted to hop off the stool to grab another beer, but a larger part of her wanted to stay and talk—she was fascinated with this man who she _thought_ she had hated. Instead, her fingers wrapped around the neck of the glass bottle and she wrestled her beer back.

He gave it up without a fight.

“Ya know, if you wanna accuse Teef ‘bout rigging it, then by all means, you should do it. But don’t come crawling back to me sobbing when she kicks your pretty lil face so hard no one’ll recognize ya!” She tilted her back to drink the rest of the beer. By the time she looked back at him, their gazes locked. Yuffie froze.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, but then the permanent smirk on his face widened into an almost-smile and she felt her heart stutter unexpectedly.

“You think I’m pretty, huh?” he asked, his eyes glinting in mischief.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Turkey,” she muttered under her breath as she felt her face flush. “I like your hat though.”

He sniggered and tilted his head down towards her so that the turkey drumsticks were practically stabbing her in the eyes. “It’s _festive.”_

True to his word, by the time gift exchanges were happening, he was still settled right next to her. Yuffie was glad that she had decided to tone down her gift for him this year because the last thing she wanted was to smell shit or find glitter in her bra six months later.

She was shocked to realize that she enjoyed their conversation which was filled with banter and not for the first time, she wondered if she had truly misjudged the Turks—misjudged _him._

As Reno pulled out his gift from under the tree— _everyone_ in the bar was watching him with interest because word had somehow gotten around that Yuffie was his gifter again. With a weary sigh, he cast her a look as if to say that it was completely her fault he was in this position again. A masterful flick of his wrist later, the box was sliced open—she noticed with amusement that their shoulders were practically touching and he was holding the box a little too close to her.

His fingers reached in and snatched something small from inside before chucking it at her face, effectively hitting the corner of her eyes. “Was this supposed to scare me, you little shit?”

She laughed as she ducked another plastic cockroach he threw her way. “Maybe. I had planned real cockroaches, but I don’t think Teef would’ve been happy with me.”

“No, I wouldn’t have been,” Tifa called from the corner of the bar and Yuffie stuck her tongue playful in response.

Reno let out a snort before he pulled out the real gift—it was a pair of boxers with cartoon drawings of cooked turkeys. “Does this have a hidden explosive where it blows my dick off or somethin’?”

Yuffie heard Cid snort into his beer and she couldn’t help but cackle shrilly. “E-Explosives?” she asked, her shoulders heaving with laughter. Her ass would have landed on the floor if she hadn’t been leaning against his shoulder, her hand slapping the counter top as she giggled almost hysterically. She couldn’t help but notice the rumble in his chest from his chuckles.

When her guffaws finally settled, she tilted her head up to peer up at him and she was surprised to see his gaze on her face. Her lips stretched into a wide smile. “I’m not Baldy, ya know. I don’t rig _everything_ with bombs.”

“Thank _fuck_ for _that,”_ he muttered as he flicked her forehead—she punched his shoulder lightly in response.

She hopped off the stool and cast him a backward glance. “If I get you again next year, that’s what you’re getting—napalm in a box.”

A slight quirk of a smile was on his lips as he responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Sure. If I’m lucky enough to be picked by you four times in a row, then I deserve it, yo.”

As she settled down at Cid, Shera and Cloud’s table, she couldn’t help but feel that she would rather be sitting with _someone_ else. Her gaze flittered around the bar until she found him sitting at their usual corner table—he looked up and their gazes met again.

She bit her lips and looked away but her chest fluttered uncomfortably.

_Oh shit._

**IV.**

“All I’m sayin’ is that you needa stop bein’ such a workaholic, Reeve,” Yuffie said a little drunkenly as she patted her boss’ shoulder reassuringly. “You’re like, not bad lookin’, ya know? But that work habit of yours—”

Reeve pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head slowly. “Yuffie,” he said slowly. “You’ve had too much to drink and my love life or lack thereof is not something I would _ever_ want to discuss—” His tirade stopped abruptly as someone approached them at the booth. “Oh, thank god,” he muttered quietly to himself, though not quiet enough for her not to hear him.

“Heeeeeeey, Commissioner. You look awfully happy to see me. This dipshit here causin’ problems for ya?” Reno slid into the seat next to Yuffie with his usual lazy smirk.

Her head tilted towards Reno and she couldn’t stop the wide, half-tipsy grin from showing on her face, pleased that he had joined her—them. Not only that, but the plush turkey hat that she had given him the second year was displayed proudly on his head and his suit jacket was missing. She had never realized how form-fitting his dress shirt had been. 

“I’m jus’ tellin’ ‘im that he needs to stop workin’ so hard, right?” A small giggle escaped her lips as she shifted in her seat. Her heart jumped when her legs brushed against his and she pretended not to notice. “No woman’s gonna ever look at ‘im if he stays in the office, ya know?”

Reno snickered. “The brat isn’t wrong, Tuesti. You probably _should_ work less so you can get laid, yo.”

Yuffie cackled as she leaned against Reno’s shoulder. “See? Turkey agrees with me, _yo!”_

Shaking his head in utter exasperation, Reeve rubbed his palms against his eyes before sliding out of the seat. “This is not a discussion I want with _either_ of you. Yuffie, stop drinking. You’ve had too much. Reno, don’t let her drink any more.”

She felt Reno lift up his other arm to give him a mocking salute before she felt his breath on the top of her head. “You look like you’ve had a lil too much,” he murmured, his tone strangely affectionate. “Went past your third?”

Her head tipped up to glance at his face and was a little surprised when she realized how close his face was to hers—she could see the flecks of blue sprinkled in the green of his eyes. “That obvs?” she asked, her voice coming out softer than she had expected.

He chuckled. “You’re slurrin’ your words, babe.”

Her flustered brain screeched to a sudden halt. 

Had he just called her… 

Before her mind could catch up and question him, he continued to talk—it was almost as if he wanted to pretend his slip of the tongue hadn’t happened. That, or he didn’t think it was that big a deal. “I look a peek at the presents under the tree. Unless you made me a napalm in the shape of a whiskey bottle, I think I’m safe from you this year.”

“You _almost_ sound disappointed, you ass,” she said with a snort.

He slid the glass of water towards her and she realized belatedly that he had probably brought it to her before Reeve demanded she stop drinking—a warm feeling spread within her chest. Her head snuggled into his arm instead and she let out a yawn.

“In case it wasn’t clear to you before, I’m cuttin’ you off for the night.”

She groaned in response. “You’re not my dad.”

“Thank _fuck,”_ he grumbled, his voice so low she could barely hear it. She wasn't sure if she should have taken that comment offensively or not.

When it finally came to time to start on their Secret Santa exchange, Yuffie had sobered up considerably. Reno rejoined her at the table like an excited kid at a candy store—or like Yuffie in a materia store—his lips widened into a genuine smile as he pulled the bottle of whiskey out of the gift bag.

Yuffie almost felt bad for him. _Almost._

His lanky fingers broke the bottle seal before twisting open the cap. Without even taking a sniff, he knocked his whole head back to take a large gulp, only to promptly cough out the liquid harshly before choking and spluttering. At one point, Rude stood up from his seat to see if he could help, only for Yuffie to wave him away with an apologetic grin.

 _"How?_ And what the _fuck_ was that even?” Reno finally gritted out after a few long moments of hacking as he fought for air.

“Uh, soy sauce packets, steeped tea and like, burnt coffee?” Yuffie responded a little sweetly as she patted his back in a comforting manner. “Sorry, didn’t think you’d react that badly. But uh, Merry Christmas? It's still me.”

“I fuckin’ _knew_ it.” He was looking down at his dress shirt and pair of pants that was now sporting a stain at the crotch.

Yuffie looked at him with the biggest and sweetest smile she could muster. "So I've been wondering… Are you wearing the pair of boxers you got from your Secret Santa last year?"

His hands grabbed a handful of napkins as he began soaking up the liquid in his pants and he somehow managed to elbow her in the side, _almost_ painfully. She had a feeling he was holding back though.

"Wouldn't ya like to know," he retorted, scoffing. "Dipshit."

"Uh, I would. That's why I asked, you jerk." She didn't even try to rein in her impulse—her fingers slipped past his shirt and under his belt before she pulled. The little turkeys dancing on his boxers gave her immense satisfaction as she ignored the loud yelp that escaped Reno's lips.

"Ding, ding, ding!" she cheered before standing up and dancing away from his hand swiping across where her shoulder would have been. “Catch ya later, Turkey-boy!” Before he could respond, she shouted out her usual goodbyes as her shrill voice rang through the bar and then bounced out of the bar.

The fresh air helped clear her head a little and she had _no idea_ what had brought on her urge to take a peek at Reno’s underwear. Nonetheless, she couldn’t stop the giggles that burst from her as her mind replayed the absolute _shocked_ look on his face when she looked under his belt.

Taking a deep breath of the cool air, she was just about to start walking towards her apartment when calloused fingers wrapped around her wrist firmly. She twirled around, ready to fight whoever it was.

“Reno? Whaaaaaaa?”

“C’mon, brat. I’ll walk you home.” He was staring at her with that indecipherable look in his eyes again—the one that she had had trouble trying to crack. She could feel her heart suddenly skip a beat in her chest at the unexpected offer.

Blinking in bewilderment, she looked up at him as she bit her lips, her head tilted. “Why?”

“‘Cause I spilled shit on my pants ‘cause of you and we live two bocks away from each other,” he said with a slight sneer.

Her gaze drifted down to the front of his pants and she couldn’t help but grin. “Sorry.” And then she grabbed onto his arm without invitation. “Has anyone ever told you that you were a stalker?”

“Yeah. Just before I snapped his neck.”

Yuffie made a face. “Gawd, you’re _so_ morbid.”

**V.**

“Hey,” Yuffie said with a bright smile as she nudged Reno’s arm with her elbow and nodded towards the corner booth that was usually occupied by the Turks. “Look, look, look!”

Reno’s gaze drifted towards where she was motioning towards before shaking his head with a pleased look on his face. “Looks like Tuesti’s plan finally worked out.”

“Well, I mean, _technically_ it’s worked out since the second year? Or was it the third?” she asked thoughtfully with a finger on her chin. “I mean, sure, our conversing was technically the two of us going at each other’s throats, but that counted, right?”

His chuckles were low and almost mocking, but she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of hearing them. “Pretty sure it wasn’t what he had in mind at first.”

Yuffie gave a small sigh as she laid her head in her arms, watching Tifa and Rude flirt—well, Tifa and Rude’s version of flirting, which consisted of a lot of blushing and stuttering. “Glad it worked out anyways. They _do_ kinda look cute together.” Her eyes drifted away from the couple and towards Shera and Elena instead, who she had overheard talking about _babies_ earlier. Before long, she found herself looking towards Cloud, Vincent and Tseng who were quietly discussing _something_ at the bar. “Bet you when Reeve gets here, he’s gonna be so fricken proud of himself that we’re not just sitting in our own little cliques.”

“Me and you, brat,” he said with an exaggerated grunt. “Who woulda thought, huh?”

She shrugged with an impish grin adorning her lips. “Well, it kinda makes sense. Nobody’s crazy enough to put up with _you.”_ And then catching sight of the brightly shimmering Christmas tree at the corner of the bar, she straightened up in her seat. “Oh! Five years in a row, by the way. I _swear_ it’s totally rigged.”

“I’m not fuckin’ opening it. That whiskey concoction stained my shirt and pants so bad I had to throw 'em out.”

“Aww,” she whined, fluttering her large eyes at him. “I promise you’ll like it this time!”

“Is it an _actual_ gift this time?”

Her face suddenly felt warm and she wished she hadn’t decided on wearing the damn Santa hat and thick moogle sweater. “Tifa-approved gift!” she announced proudly with a cheer. And then she frowned a little. “Well, Tifa approved the idea, but I’m not sure she would ever endorse the final product…” she trailed off.

“Good enough for me. As long as it doesn’t poison me or somethin’.”

“Uh… I hope not?”

 _“Seriously,_ you little shit? How the fuck is that Tifa-approved?” he asked with a scowl.

She raised her beer bottle up in a toast. “You’ll seeee! Just trust me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Famous fuckin’ last words,” he muttered under his breath.

Yuffie had received a nice new set of throwing knives that were perfectly balanced—she suspected that Vincent was her Secret Santa this year because she could recall complaining about them the last time they had been on a mission together. They were starting to be dull despite the constant sharpening and time had really not been kind to them.

As Reno pulled out his gift from under the Christmas tree, he grimaced slightly. The size of the box was similar to that first gift she had ever gotten for him on that first Secret Santa exchange—he was no doubt reminiscing the stench of the chocobo shit that Yuffie could still imagine if she tried hard enough.

At this point, it was almost _expected_ that Yuffie was Reno’s not-so-secret Santa.

Sitting at the edge of her seat in anticipation, she held her breath as he sliced open the box and pulled out the present. She couldn’t believe how _nervous_ she was feeling because it was the first gift she had tried to get him that she _wanted_ him to like.

A black coffee mug was in his hand as his eyes glanced down at the words. He was reading it loud enough for those around to hear.

 **_Cup of Fuckoffee_ ** **_  
_** **_1 splash of no one cares_ ** **_  
_** **_A dash of kiss my ass_ ** **_  
_** **_Add some fuck-you’s_ ** ****  
**_A pinch of blow me,_ ** **_  
_** ****_Stir & shove it up your ass_

Looking up from the mug, he had an amused smirk on his face. “Holy shit, yo,” he said almost disbelievingly. “I kinda like the gift this year.”

“Really?” she asked, feeling a little giddy. She was sure that her face was bright red now. Clearing her throat, she cast him a small sheepish grin. “Maybe don’t try the cookies in the cup then.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Why? Is it filled with chocobo shit?”

“No!” she screeched as a cackle bubbled out of her and she shook her head slowly. When she finally calmed down, the embarrassed look on her face was still there. “I baked it, which, to be completely honest, is probably indefinitely worse than chocobo turd.”

With a hesitant look on his face, his finger snagged a cookie and broke a piece off before he popped it in his mouth. She watched with morbid fascination as his face practically turned green before he swallowed it and chugged down the rest of his beer.

 _“Fuck,”_ he cursed, his face twisting into a look of disgust.

Yuffie wanted to find a hole to hide in, but the fact that he had tried a cookie _despite_ her letting him know that she was shite at baking made her chest tighten with an entirely foreign emotion. “Yep. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He flicked her forehead almost _fondly._ “Wish I had listened ‘cause your bakin’ sucks.” But then he lifted his new mug up almost in cheer. “Thanks for the mug, dipshit. It’s a nice improvement from the last four years.”

Squaring her shoulders, she gave a small nod, almost as if to reassure herself before grabbing the rest of the cookie that Reno had broken off. Before she could change her mind, she threw it in her mouth. Only to immediately cough it out—it was so salty that it tasted bitter and she gagged at the idea of swallowing even a bite of it.

Had she mistaken the salt for sugar?

“Ugh!” she grimaced as she suppressed her urge to spit and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand instead. “How’d you manage to even swallow that?"

A loud snicker could be heard next to her. “I’m regrettin’ that right now, trust me.”

“That’s it!” she exclaimed cheerfully, standing up from her seat and promptly hitting her thighs against the table with a wince. If she was sure Tifa wouldn’t have given her a hard time, she would have jumped to stand on the table instead. “I’m gonna make it up to you—you’re now my guinea pig for taste testing!”

His eyes peered up at her with one of his brows lifted up. “I quit.”

“You can’t!” she responded in a girlish sing-song tone, ready to hop up onto the seat.

As if he could read her mind, his fingers grabbed onto her wrist before he pulled her downwards and she plopped down next to him. “Sit your ass down before you fall over, princess.”

Laughing, she fell against his side. "Fine. No taste testing then," she said with a big smile stretched across her face before pulling out her new set of throwing knives to show off. "Target practice?"

"No fuckin' way, yo."

**VI.**

Yuffie couldn’t stop the gushy sounds as she touched Tifa’s bulging stomach as gently as she could with the tips of her fingertips, squealing in surprise when something _kicked_ her fingers. “A kick!” she said with a laugh before she wrapped her arms excitedly around her friend. “Omigawd this is so exciting! And just a month and a half till you’re a _mom._ Jeez.”

“You make me sound so old, Yuffie,” Tifa retorted with a gentle smile, swatting her lightly on the shoulder.

While Yuffie would normally hip check her friend in a friendly manner, she didn’t dare now. The not-so-secret warning glances Rude was shooting her from the corner table of the bar made her want to laugh instead. He was so so damn overprotective.

“Just older than me,” Yuffie responded with a grin. “Go on, sit down. I know how to make my own drinks.”

Tifa nodded thankfully and Yuffie could see the dark bags under her eyes and the way her gaze was tinged with exhaustion—the martial artist had recently been complaining about back pain and sleep deprivation. Pregnancy did not sound pleasant. As Tifa waddled towards Rude, Yuffie’s gaze darted around the bar before realizing that her favourite person to bug wasn’t around yet.

With a shrug, she pulled out two glasses. She had no doubt he’d show up before long. After mixing up her own concoction of a sweet drink with rum, gin and pineapple juice, she made sure to clamber up the countertop to grab Reno’s favourite whiskey off the top-shelf to pour him a glass. And then she climbed back up to put the bottle right back where she had found it.

“View would’ve been nicer if you were wearin’ a short dress.” His familiar voice said with a sneer.

She looked down at him and she couldn’t help the grin that spread on her face as she caught the familiar sight of the plush turkey on his head. “You’d like that, wouldn’t ya.” With her knees still on the table, she hopped off before landing awkwardly and as gracelessly as she could. Reno grabbed her by the elbow with a chuckle to keep her balanced.

“I would,” he murmured, his lips quirked up fondly.

“What took you so long, Turkey?”

He looked a little embarrassed when he answered. “Forgot ‘bout the gift exchange. Had to buy a last minute present to throw under the tree.”

A giggle bubbled out of her. “Of course you did. Not mine, of course?”

“Nah. Haven’t had the luck to return the favour.”

Her eyes glanced around the bar to make sure no one was paying any attention to them before she handed him his drink and took a sip of her own. “So… ya know, for once, I’m not your Secret Santa this year,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Aww, shit,” he muttered sarcastically with a roll of the eyes. “Man, am I missin’ out on some perfectly good presents. What have I gotten from you so far?”

She laughed, shoving him none too gently in the chest—his skin felt warm under her hands and she blushed slightly. “Hey! You wear my turkey hat and boxers every year!”

“It’s the only _festive_ thing I own.”

“All thanks to me!” she said with exaggerated fist pumps in the air before she placed her hands behind her as she grinned up impishly at him. “As per yearly tradition, since it just feels _wrong_ to not have a present for you, I’ve prepared a gift for you anyway.”

His eyes glowed with amusement. “It gonna maim me in any way?”

Biting her lips, she looked around the bar one last time to make sure no one was watching. It was a normal sight to see the two of them whispering behind other people’s backs by now anyway—Reeve was so pleased with himself they had become _friends_ that he had almost pissed himself when he found out.

Except they weren’t really friends.

Shrugging in a casual manner, she mustered up her courage and leaned over towards him before whispering in his ear. “I think you’ll like this one the best.” Discreetly, she hooked her thumb around the neckline of her sweater before pulling it down her shoulder slightly, exposing a black lace strap belonging to a newly purchased lingerie.

“You fuckin’ tease,” he muttered huskily, his voice barely audible over the background noises. “You’re gonna make me wait till the end of the night?”

“Well,” she said with a playful grin as she fixed her sweater, enjoying the hungry look in his eyes, “We can always sneak out?”

He threw his head back and downed his whiskey in a single gulp before he placed it down and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Let’s go.”

Laughing and with her usual exuberance, she waved and called out a quick goodbye before belting out a loud “Merry Christmas!”.

If he didn’t care that people were going to look at them funny that they left the party before it even started, then she didn’t give a damn either.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick idea for a Christmas fic that was supposed to be less than 2k words. As usual, when I’m writing Reffie fics, word vomit happens… Apologies in advance as ‘Parenthood’ was initially supposed to be updated this week, but I’ve spent my entire week hashing out this last minute Christmas fic that I didn’t initially think would even happen, so I haven’t had time to edit the other fic. There might be another week of delay too since I have a New Year’s Eve fic planned that I haven’t started on…
> 
> Wishing everyone a Happy Holiday, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Saturnalia! See you in the new year!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are very much appreciated!


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